Pictures worth a thousand words
by blackm00n5
Summary: A collection of Newsies drabbles and oneshots. Non-connected, mostly Sprace, Javid and maybe some blush.
1. Hate

**A/N OMG RANDOM ONESHOT TIEM! Ok, so this will be mostly Race/Spot as I love them together, feel free to leave prompts or ideas in the comments.**

Spot Conlon hated the searing jealousy that simmered in his veins whenever anyone even looked at Racetrack. He hated how antsy and worried he got if he went a week without hearing from him. He hated how his nightmares were of Race leaving and he hated that he craved the Italian's touch. Spot hated how he loved those dark eyes and that toothy, lopsided grin. But what Spot hated the most was that, even if he said nothing, Race knew.

So, when Jack pulled the brunette to the side after Dave's 'seize the day' speech to tell him Spot needed to talk to him, he wasn't surprised and the King of Brooklyn hated that too.

Racetrack left at six o'clock that night, walking quickly. He hitched himself a ride across the Brooklyn bridge, making it to the docks by seven thirty.

Spot was lying on the edge of the wooden dock, staring up at what stars could be seen. His hat was on his stomach, leaving golden tresses splayed out around his head. Light from a full moon illuminated him, making pale skin glow and ice blue eyes shine. He'd never admit it, but Race saw an angel. Perhaps a fallen angel, but an angel none the less.

"You'se wanted to see me, your highness?" the newsies joked, catching the small, fleeting grin on Spot's face.

"Race." he greeted, standing up. "Y'know, some people ain't gonna be so happy with this strike."

"I know. Ain't as dumb as I act." Race replied. Spot continued to stare right at him, trying to keep his face emotionless.

"This is a dangerous game you guys is playin'" The blonde hated the concern that edged it's way into his voice. Race didn't answer. Suddenly, he found himself unable to look directly at the slightly younger newsie. His gaze instead fell to a vague area beside Race's feet.

"Be careful." he whispered. Dark eyes widened in shock.

"Jus'...I don't want nobody hurting you, alright?" He gained the courage to look at the Italian. "So...Please, just...be careful." His usually strong voice was very nearly a whimper and he hated it.

He took a step forward and cupped the brunette's face in his hands. He stroked a calloused thumb over soft skin that curved over the cheekbone. He brought their lips together and kissed Racetrack slowly, softly. All his ego and pride and hate melted away until all that was left was the passion and the familiar feeling of chapped lips moving against his own. Race fisted his hands in the front of the blonde's shirt, his heart pounding far too fast. And he knew that if Spot had cared enough at the moment to notice, he'd hate to find that his was too.

"Promise me." he mumbled against Race's lips.

"I promise." the Italian answered, continuing the kiss.

The next day, Spot sat on his perch overlooking the docks. A slight, curly haired blonde with freckles rushed over. Spot regarded him calmly, though already his heart was pounding with worry and he hated it.

"Boss, we found out that tricks bein' pulled on 'em! They's gonna get a bunch of people to soak 'em." the boy gushed out hurriedly and Spot hated that Race was the first thing that went through his mind.

"Gear up boys, we're goin' to Manhattan." he called, standing up.

The smile that lit up Race's face when Spot showed up warmed his heart. At the time, it was wonderful, but he knew later, he'd hate it.


	2. Fingertips

**A/N This one is short, but I'm in love with the concept.**

Race didn't even think the blonde realized he did it.

Every night they slept together. Every time they managaed to sneak away and get lost in the passion. Whenever they were drowning in the afterglow of the intimacy, he did it.

Race would curl up on Spot's small bed with him. After a few moments, those calloused fingertips were drawing out designs on slightly darker skin. Each little trail left the skin behind scorching in the most pleasurable of ways.

When he would lie on his back, those familiiar fingertips traced his lips and brushed over the curve of his jaw. They'd trail over each muscle in his torso that the skin molded smoothly over. Spot's fingertips brushed hair from the Italian's forhead and let strands run inbetween them. Each dip and curve was re-memorized whenever the chance was made available.

When the fingers ran over his back and those blue eyes couldn't see his face, he somtimes heard a quiet 'I love you.' and a smile would pull across his face. Every gentle stroke over the skin sent warmth through Race's body. He sometime's wondered if he loved those fingertips more than Spot himself. But when that full arm wrapped around him and pulled him flush against a strong, warm torso, the thought disappeared.

And every time they made love, Race kissed each and every one of those fingertips. Spot loved it, but would always ask why. Race would just smile and kiss him quiet.


	3. Five things

**A/N NOT WORK SAFE MY LUVLIES. Nope, I mean really, anyone who knows me should know that I will eventually add some porn into a drabble collection.**

**Again, any prompt idea are welcome!**

There were five things that Racetrack knew about Brooklyn's king that no one else knew.

**1. He got chronic night terrors.**

It was just after one in the morning, and Race was sitting up in Spot's bed, watching him sleep. He seemed peacful and relaxed, his face smooth and expressionless. Race ran a hand through that soft, blonde hair and smiled slightly. And suddenly, the newsie's body jerked and his face contorted into pure agony, and Race knew the nightmares were beginning. Striking blue eyes shot open and Spot's terrorized scream pierced the peacful silence. Race shook him, murmuring his name, softly but urgently, until his elder's screams stop with a gasp and his blue eyes blinked frantically. He looked around wildly, having broken out in a cold sweat, before staring up into deep, brown eyes.

"The accident again?" Race asked gently. Spot nodded and burried his face in Racetrack's shoulder, silent sobs wracking his body.

**2. He was a sucker for romance.**

Race's eyes widened at the sight laid out before him. The New York sky was amazingly clear, stars dotted around a full moon. Several mismatched candels were placed around the wooden dock and an old, battered radio was playing a quiet, slow tune. Spot smiled almost tenderly as he held a hand out to the younger. Race took it shyly, not sure how to react to the act of silly romance that was unheard of from the blonde. Spot spun the italian around before pulling him close and burying his face in his neck, swaying them gently.

**3. He was a very jealous person.**

She was pretty, yeah. Too thin, and her cheek bones were a little too high, but she was pretty. Hazel eyes and black curls falling down her back. She rose from her spot on Race's lap to get another drink, and Race snuck off to his lover's personal room. He had left in a rather indignant huff about fifteen minutes earlier, and Race didn't want to be rude to the annoyingly persistant girl who had plopped in his lap.

As soon as he was in the room, the door was slammed shut and he was pushed roughly against it, familiar lips crashing against his. his eyes slide shut and his legs gave out, the strong body pressed against him the only thing keeping him from collapsing.

"You're mine." Spot growled, moving to nip and suck at Race's neck.

"I'm yours...all yours." the italian moaned out, gripping too tightly onto his older lover's shoulders.

"She's not allowed to look at you. No one is." the blonde demanded, not caring that he was being petulant. Race just nodded.

**4. He spoke in french when he needed to say something, but it would undo the reputation he had worked so hard to build up.**

They were surronded by people. Everyone was cheering and screaming, and he doubted anyone would be paying any attention to him. So, quickly, he wrapped his arms around his italian, savouring the thought of Race being his. He pulled him closer so the smaller's back was pressed to his chest and he placed his lips right next to his ear.

"Je suis dans amour avec tu." he whispered.

Race turned around as the arms left and, as suddenly as that softness had arrived, it was gone. Spot was already cheering with Jack and David, his eyes icy and a smirk prominent on his face.

**5. Though he usually wanted dominance, giving up control every now and again was something he loved.**

A moan undulated from deep within Race's chest as Spot ripped his shirt open, forcing his suspenders off of his shoulders. He tangled his fingers in soft blonde hair, trying to force their lips together. Spot's tongue forced it's way into Race's mouth and re-explored the already memorized territory. Race bucked his hips, grinding his engorged erection against the buldge in his elder's pants.

"God, Sean, please fuck me!" he begged, his head falling back against the wooden door.

"No," he moaned, starting to undo Race's pants. "I want you in me." the words made Race gasp and his knees nearly gave out.

Spot pulled them towards the bed, stepping out of his own pants as he kissed the italian fervently. The blonde layed down on his back and pulled the italian in between his legs, forcing him down into a kiss. Race nervously rubbed his erection, slicking it with his precome.

"I want it hard!" Spot groaned, throwing his head back against the mattress.

Not bothering with preperation, Race slowly slid his head in, nervously guaging the blonde's response. The pain was written clearly on his face, but he was crying out with pleasured moans. Race took his time pushing the rest of the way in, reveling in the sight of Brooklyn's king coming undone beneath him. He started a slow, rhythmic pace and soon Spot was writhing.

"God, Tony, please! Faster!" He practically screamed, trying to rock his hips back against Race.

Race moaned, thrusting harder and faster. Spot screamed, digging his nails into the italian's shoulders as his prostate was hit dead on. A calloused hand moved between them and Race grasped his lover's neglected erection, stroking in time with his thrusts. It wasn't long before Spot was cumming, screaming out Race's name. The brunette followed suite mere seconds after, cumming hard into Spot.

He collapsed onto Spot, both breathing heavily. Spot turned them around so his chest was pressed firmly against the younger's back.

"I love you." he murmured.\

**A/ Ehhh, It's a little rushed...oh well**


	4. Mine

**A/N OMFG some Javid! My second favorite Newsies slash couple. Couldn't help myself, I was in the mood for some angst, and I figured that the best way to go about it without a character death, since I dislike those because in my perfect world none of my favorite characters die, was to throw some 'I-love-my-sister's-boyfriend' angst out into the world. I like it, might write a part two for later, give it a happy ending. **

**DISCLAIMER~ I do not own a bunch of cute, singing, dancing boys in suspenders, but I wish I did.**

It was so, so wrong.

David loved his sister, and wanted to see her happy. But he couldn't help the way his heart beat _mineminemine_. He couldn't help the jealousy that seared through his veins whenever he saw her with Jack, his best friend. Her boyfriend.

The one person he loved so much it hurt.

And it did hurt, because that charming smile and those sparkling eyes weren't his, no matter how much he'd like them to be. That jealousy boiled his blood and he was disgusted with himself. Sarah was happy, so he should be too. And yet, that steady rhythm of _mineminemine_ still pulsed through him.

David couldn't handle it. Thanksgiving, after dinner, Jack and Sarah were all over each other. Each with little kisses and giggles and it made Dave nasuous. He gave a half-assed excuse for a walk that went completely ignored by both anyway. He took Jack's coat as he tried not to storm his way out, careful not to slam the door.

He could feel the tears welling in his blue eyes as he pulled his best friend's coat tightly around him. He inhaled deeply, taking in that earthy, slightly metallic scent and the tears began sliding down his face.

The november night air was chilly but Dave was numb. All he could feel was his heart beating, almost too slowly. He looked up at the cloudy sky as he leaned his back against the nearest brick wall. A fresh wave of tears washed over him and he slid to the ground. He sobbed shamelessly into his knees as he pulled them to his chest.

He wanted to hate Sarah, to hate Jack. It would make it so much easier, so less painful. He wanted to tell Sarah to just fuck off, wanted to not care if he hurt his sister. But he couldn't bring himself to and that just broke his heart more.

"Jack..." he moaned out and he'd be the first to admit that he sounded pathetic.

He pulled the jacket tighter around himself, trying to pretend it was _him_ in Jack's arms and not Sarah. He tried to pretend he had those strong arms around him, keeping him warm.

"I love you Jack." he sobbed, hugging his knees tighter to himself.

Dave didn't know how long he had been out there, but his stomach hurt from his sobs, and his hands and ears were numb from cold. He burried his face deeply into the coat. He realized he could smell Sarah's perfume along with Jack's smell, and his heart broke more.

It was so, so wrong.


	5. Musical moments Sprace

**A/N Yay, so a few weeks back I had a major case of writer's block, so I did a Sprace ipod shuffle, and a Javid ipod shuffle. Gonna post the Sprace one first then put up the Javid one in a few days. **

**Disclaimer~ Sadly, I do not own the Newsies, though I do own an anniversarty edition of the dvd!**

_**Sober ~ Pink**_

The liquid sloshed in the unopened bottle. Race glared at it before throwing it into the closest bulding at hard as he could, the glass shattering. Spot just didn't understand, he wanted so much more than a drunked fuck buddy. He wanted to just...be held for a while. To stay sober and still get the euphoric high. He shook his head, fighting back tears. He couldn't feel good sober anymore, not while he was in love with Spot Conlon.

**_Lie to Me ~ Shane Mack_**

Lie, Race. Pretend, for just tonight. Act like we don't have to hide. Just once, let loose with me. Lie and tell me you'll never leave. Lie and tell me we have nothing to hide, that we'll always be together. Let us act as if we're normal, that we won't be shunned or soaked for this. Tell me you'll stay. Tell me you love me.

_**Life on the Moon ~ David Cook**_

Without Spot, Race was lonely. Sure, he knew the others cared about him. And he cared about them as well. But, with Brooklyn's King, he could just let loose and let go. He could give up all control and just _feel._ But he was lost in the role he played for the other Newsies, and feeling that far away almost hurt.

_**Listen to the Rain ~ Evanescence**_

"Just be quiet." Race commanded, a goofy grin on his face.

Spot rolled his eyes and listened. It was raining. He watched as that goofy frin dissapaited into a serene smile. His own face softened and he closed his eyes. Gently, he pressed their lips together as the rain crashed down around them.

**_Imperfection ~ Skillet_**

"I'm too fucked up...Why do you deal with me?" Spot mumbled, running his fingers through dark hair.

"Your imperfections make you human." Race murmured back, causing Spot to jerk away in surprise.

"I...I thought you were asleep..." Spot scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.

"I love you." Race answered simply. Spot smiled.

**_Amazed ~ Lonestar_**

Race was sound asleep. Spot, on the other hand, was not. So, he opted for staring lovingly at his slumbering lover. Softly, he brushed his hand over Race's jawline and smiled. There was no way he deserved this, deserved _him_. He was too perfect, his very name causing Spot's heart to speed.

"God, Race, you're amazing, I love you."

**_Can you Feel the Love Tonight ~ Elton John [Don't judge!]_**

The strike was finally over. Spot, unsurprisingly, dragged Race to Brooklyn to celebrate. To his surprise, instead of having his clothes ripped from his body like he was expecting, he was pulled into a loving embrace. Spot burried his face in the crook of his neck. He swayed them back and forth gently, dancing under a slowly setting sun. Race smiled and wrapped his arms around Spot's neck, whispering 'I love you' quietly.

**_Don't wake me ~ Skillet_**

You left and still love you. I dream of you far too often. I don't know why I still love you so much, Sean, but I do. These dreams, they're so vivid. It's almost like you're mine again. But then I wake up, and your arm isn't aruond me and your chest isn't pressed against my back. Sometimes I wish I wuoldn't wake up, to just sleep forever. Because when I'm sleeping, when I'm dreaming, it's you and me again. When I'm asleep, I still have you, and I'm still happy.

**_Lithium ~ Evanscence_**

He's like my own personal drug. The taste of his skin, how he feels against me, around me. The way his voice sounds when he whispers 'I love you' or when he screams my name. The way his head throws back when I'm in him or the way he writhes beneath me. Every little noise he makes, every little touch I get makes me that much higher.

But most of all, the way those perfect lips pull into a soft smile and those brown eyes glow when I tell him I love him. He's a drug, and he's addictive.

_**Shouldn't Kiss me like This ` Toby Keith**_

"Dammit, Sean, I don't want to be a game!" Tony hissed, pushing Spot off of him. "Don't use to me to fuckin' get off! Either love me, or stop this." Tears welled in his eyes.

After a few moments of hesitance, tony's face was softly cupped in Sean's calloused hand and surprisingly soft lips pressed tenderly agains this own, moving slowly, almost shyly.

"I love you."

**A/N Wow, those seemed a lot longer in my notebook, lol. I like to write everything by hand first because I think it's easier to fix mistakes when I re-read it on paper. Anyway, hope you enjoyed.**


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